Draco Revealed
by Ashley Dane-Kaulitz
Summary: Just a couple of Dramione romance scenes w/lemons and fluff. They didn't fit into my other fanfic but I've decided to post them anyway... might be more coming soon...
1. Part 1

Okay this is a short series of scenes that I was going to use for one of my stories but it didn't fit right so I've just decided to use them as a one-shot.

Hope you like it,

Ashley Dane-Kaulitz

Happy wishes to all!

**Draco Revealed**

**Part One:**

"Draco," Hermione said softly in the doorway.

He turned to look at her, a soft smile on his lips. "Come here."

She bit her lip and walked forward across the soft carpet towards the green sofa upon which he sat. She was in the Malfoy Manor. That fact still dazzled her a bit. He'd invited her to stay over Easter break because his parents were in France.

She stood in front of him, waiting as his eyes grazed over her body. In her closet had been a collection of the most wonderful clothes she'd ever seen. Tonight she'd decided that the silver silk nightie would be sufficient. It was lacy and delicate looking but didn't reveal much, to her obvious relief. She was uncomfortable revealing too much skin around Draco, especially because they had yet to…

Her thoughts broke off as he grasped her hand and drew her down onto his lap.

"Draco…"

"Shhh," he murmured, "Relax." He began to lightly stroke her back

"What's it like?" she asked softly, into his ear.

"I wouldn't know."

"But…" she leaned back; wide hazel eyes met his smiling gray ones. She couldn't believe it.

The Slytherin Sex God of Hogwarts was a virgin.

What a revelation.

"But you and Pansy…"

"We never did anything major," he said.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, "What does that mean exactly?"

"Truthfully?"

She nodded, her face in the crook his neck.

"You asked for it…I've touched her, and she me, but we never... I've never been..." he trailed off unable to explain.

She smiled slightly against his shoulder; it was a small catty smile of smug satisfaction. Her man was, in a sense, as untouched as she. For her, there was no greater sensation than that.

"But why?"

He was silent for a moment as he continued to stroke her back leisurely. "Because I've never wanted to."

Yet he'd wanted to with her, she realized, almost from the first moment he'd wanted to be with her. Her heart filled past the point she'd ever thought it was capable of loving. He always did that to her. He always made her feel more each day, surprised her each day.

"I love you," she murmered, "so much."

His hand went around her to grip tightly, "Right back atcha, baby," he whispered harshly. As he felt her heart beat against his in unison he was overcome with emotion. He never thought he'd have something as great as this. His whole life he'd never expected to have the completeness he had when he was with Hermione. As inspiration stuck he leaned back and their eyes locked, hazel to gray. "I love my lover."

"We'll always stay true," she murmered, eyes filling.

"Together forever."

"Beyond when time stops."

"Because love never dies."

"And my lover is you," she finished the poem, voice cracking. "Oh, Draco," tears fell silently down her cheeks.

"Shhh," he kissed them away and even after she fell asleep he held her into the night.

He just wasn't ready to let go.

**A/N:**

There will be some more "juicy" stuff later ;)

-ADK


	2. Part 2

**Part Two:**

_A/N: Sorry it took so long to update..._

_WARNING – sex scene ahead_

Hermione woke to a bright light. As she slowly took in her surrounding she realized that the sun was shining through lacy curtains.

Then she remembered instantly where she was.

Malfoy Manor.

A smile tugged at her lips. She, Hermione Granger, Mudblood extraordinaire, was in the prim, pureblood Malfoy Manor.

Wow.

She let out a giggle, then pushed herself up to sit against the plush satin pillows. Her bed was scarlet colored to match her room. It was a room fit for a queen. She remembered thinking that exact sentiment when Draco had first shown it to her.

She trailed her fingers along the delicate, detailed lace on the quilt that covered her. She recalled Draco saying that all the lace in the room was some of the best Irish lace around. His great-grandmother had a fondness for it.

She sighed. Oddly enough the beautiful lace was growing on her too. She'd never expected herself to be so much of a girly girl. She had been in a war after all…

But heck, being surrounded by such luxury wasn't exactly torture. She quite enjoyed being treated like royalty for once.

"I feel like a princess," she murmured.

"Good."

She spun her head around to see Draco grinning as he leaned against the doorjamb.

She nearly blushed. It made her feel foolish that she'd said it out loud. "I didn't hear you open the door."

"Small wonder as you've been too busy giggling at the room."

"You heard that?" Now she did blush.

If possible, his grin grew wider. "Relax. I'm glad you like the room. Nobody much comes in here anymore. Most of our past guests didn't go for the decor my great-grandmother preferred."

"Well to tell you the truth if you'd asked me a few days ago I would have said I didn't either but…" she looked around, "I love it."

"Never though I'd be jealous of a room, he muttered.

She grinned at him, "Oh, but I love you more."

"You'd better," he hopped up on the bed with her and she snuggled close, resting her head on his shoulder.

"What are we doing today? Yesterday you dragged me off to go watch a Quidditch game and now today…?"

He stroked his hands through her hair. It was no longer bushy, but smooth and silky. He loved the way it flowed through his fingers.

"We're just going to relax."

"Oh really?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"And why do I get the feeling that you've got something hidden up your sleeves?"

"No sleeves," Draco demonstrated holding out his arm for her to see. He was wearing boxer shorts and an old t-shirt that had the sleeves ripped off to make it a baggy tank top.

"Smart mouth."

"Speaking of mouths…" He tilted her head and bent to cover her mouth with his.

Her scent was overwhelmed him and flooded his senses. But he knew he'd have to pace himself.

When the kiss ended she looked up at him hesitantly, but he smiled softly at her and she relaxed.

He then pressed his lips to hers once again. She parted her soft lips and he took the initiative. As he deepened the kiss she let out a small guttural moan. In response, his hands slid across her torso to caress her. His hand moved up so that his palm gently brushed across her breast. He felt her nipples harden against his fingers.

She gasped and broke the kiss, but to his surprise she lifted her hands and pulled her nightshirt above her head.

She knew that it was a big step that they were taking but she was willing to make it if he was.

He sat there looking in her, his eyes questioning. She knew that he wouldn't do anything without her consent. And that is why she'd chosen to give him this.

She took his hand in hers, and looking into his eyes, she said "I love you, Draco."

His hand squeezed hers with affection. "I love you, too."

Smiling she lifted his hand to her breast. "Touch me," she said.

Hot and hard he moved his mouth over hers, more taunting than insistent. His hand slid along her neck. The callused fingers reminded her of the strength in his hands even as they stroked to arouse and seduce.

She felt her blood beginning to stir.

He knew it. He was a man who understood passions, desires, vulnerabilities and how one would feed on the others. He'd used such things before, all in good humor, to give as much as to take. But now this was Hermione. And she meant a lot more, she deserved a lot more.

Women had frustrated him, amused him, baffled him and fascinated him in the past. But no woman had ever loved him as she did. And no woman had ever interested him enough to make love to completely. For the first time in his life he held a woman in his arms with the sole intention of showing her all the love they had together.

He let her unbutton the first few button on his shirt. Hermione drew the material off to the side to bare his shoulder for a kiss. He was so strong and beautiful. He'd hate that. Being called beautiful. But he was–he was undeniably beautiful.

He slid his hands down her bare shoulders as the kiss deepened. There was strength here. He'd felt it before. Now he felt the softness as well. Bothe moved him, just as, he discovered, his touch moved her.

The moment he'd stroked his palm down her bare skin the flare of pleasure had opened the door to fear. To excitement. To passion. Her excitement took them rolling over the bed, locked in an embrace. His lean build and recently easygoing manner made the steely strength she discovered both a surprise and an arousal. Muscles bunched under his shirt as he countered her moves and took her where he wanted her to go. Hermione found herself trapped beneath him.

Breathless, she stared up at him. Sunlight slanted in over her face so that her skin was bright, her eyes dark and glowing. In a mass of confusion, her hair spread over the bed, making him think of the muggle's tales about mermaids and witches.

"I'll always remember this," she whispered.

Something moved quietly inside him. His heart or perhaps his soul..

He lowered his mouth again, but she turned her head away so that his lips found the soft, vulnerable curve of her throat. Her breath caught, then expelled again on a moan. The sound had his heart drumming as he found her taste as unique and as dangerous as his feelings for her.

He wanted to love her, as he'd once wanted to hate her. He needed to comfort as much as he'd once wished to punish. He no longer sought to hurt but to give pleasure. In the midst of his confusion, he forgot everything but Hermione.

Hardened from work, gentle with love, his hands moved over her. With the tip of his tongue, he traced patterns, tormenting, tempting patterns over her skin. He could feel it heat beneath him so that the flavor and the softness seemed to intensify. She twisted one way under him, then the other so that her agitated movements only served to arouse them both.

All at once her body became very still, almost as if even breathing had stopped. Then the trembling began.

She'd never been more aware of herself, more distanced from rational thought. She wanted to remember why they'd once kept themselves from each other but she'd made her choice. Reasons no longer mattered, consequences were forgotten. He wanted. She wanted. Right and wrong were for the sane.

When he brought his mouth back to hers again, she was waiting. He didn't find pliancy, but the passion she had ruthlessly strapped down most of her life. For him it was free, and she had a fleeting moment to realize it would never fully be disguised again.

Impatience. Desperation. Together they rolled over the bed again. Her arms rose to capture him. In a move that might have told him everything, she locked him to her.

Stay with me. Love me. Understand me.

Then even that was lost in a torrent of heat that left them both gasping. Once before he'd sensed a volcano inside of her. Now as it erupted around him, he was rocked by the power, the dark violence of it. The breeze that fluttered the curtains was cool and temperate. In the center of the bed was a furnace each of them stoked higher and higher.

Frantic for more of him, Hermione pulled his shirt completely off, scattering buttons over the mattress and floor. When her laugh came, it was low and sultry as he'd heard it before, but now it had an edge of something that might have been triumph. Then it was a sigh as she ran her hands up his chest. Her kiss was hot and hungry on his as naked flesh met naked flesh.

Something snapped inside him. As a lover he'd always been clever, considerate, caring. Love had never been a game to him, nor had it been a contest. Always, it had been a result of affection, a natural culmination of needs. He'd never let it go too far.

But he'd never needed like this. He'd never loved like this.

Tenderness was forgotten as he dove his hands into her hair and dragged her against him. His teeth nipped into her lower lip, sending dizzying sparks of pleasure through her. Then he began to move swiftly, leaving her lips unsatisfied while his kisses tortured and tamed wherever they reached.

There was panic, but it was so twined with excitement she could recognize neither. Afraid, aroused, she tried to draw him back when with a suddenness that left her gasping, he drove her up and over. Her body contracted, almost in defense, then filled with a rush of heat that had her blood burning. Release came on a flood, on a cry of his name, and with the knowledge that no one would ever take her there but him.

She was weak and shuddering. The hands that had clutched the bed sheets went lax. For a moment, she began to float. Then he fanned the flames again.

This is what he'd wanted for her, from her. Her skin was damp and soft under his hands. Her muscles were limber as she began to move with him again. In the light, he saw her face, dazed with passion, flushed with pleasure. Cupping her hips in his hands, he started a lingering line of kisses up her body. He could feel the moment the strength poured back into her.

Still shuddering, still breathless, Hermione tugged at his slacks. She'd had a sample, a taste, and wanted more. She wanted all. As she pulled his clothes from him, he skimmed his fingertips over her inner thighs, hampering her progress, arousing her unbearably. He watched her eyes fly open with the shock of the fresh climax as her body arched up and strained toward the power. Then even as her muscles went lax, his mouth was on hers again and urging her along the next journey.

He was a drug. Her arms felt like lead as she tried to lift them for him. Her head was spinning from the flood of sensations. The ripe scent of passion covered both of them so that their skin was slick and hot. She could hear her own breath come in sighs and moans as she struggled to focus on his face.

His eyes were silver and sharp, like a cat's before it springs. She remembered how he'd looked on the battlefield, daring and dangerous. She shuddered once, then surrendered. With her eyes open and her heart willing, she gathered him close.

She opened. He filled.

The ride was fast and rough. Locked together, they raced. Without slackening pace, they plunged headlong over the cliff.


End file.
